Fine line
by Highnessness
Summary: Most certainly Han/Leia centric. Mainly what would happen if Han left Hoth to go see Jabba instead of coming to Leia's rescue.
1. Chapter 1

He threw back the whiskey in the glass as he stared at the brunette at the end of the bar. She felt out of place in this bar in Tatooine. Not rugged enough to part of the landscape. But she threw back her glass, showing off pale skin at her throat surrounded by brown hair.

It reminded him of the girl he once knew, two years ago. Tough, fiery and full of passion. He missed her.

The woman at the other end of the bar had a companion slip up to her, placing a hand on her back as she ordered two more drinks. Downing one of them in one gulp, before turning to her companion.

He couldn't see her face, as he turned back to his drink, taking a sip.

He sat staring at the bar. It took a few moments before he realized a person had sat on the barstool next to him, pushing another drink in front him. He didn't glance over at his new companion or take the drink.

"I hear you're good at moving freight," the soft voice said.

"It depends on who's asking," he replied, throwing the back the rest of his drink.

He then turned his gaze on who occupied the other barstool. A brunette with shoulder length hair, the same one from the other side of the bar.

"A good friend," she replied, turning to face him.

It was then he realized who he was looking at. Two years hadn't aged her much. Her skin was still pale. Her hair still brown, but shorter. Her eyes held steady, but something was behind them.

"How did you know where to find me?" he questioned.

"I have my sources, Captain," his companion replied.

"And what is a girl like you doing on a planet like this?'

"That's confidential."

He looked her over. Short t-shirt, tight pants and boots. It made her blend in, but something about her posture didn't.

"And what's in it for me?" he asked.

"You'll get paid, if that's what you are asking," she replied with steel in her voice.

He nodded and picked up the drink she had placed in from him. "And where are we going?"

"That too is confidential."

His eyebrow shot up. "You want me to move freight not knowing where I'm going or who I'm meeting?"

"No, that's silly. If you agree, you'll be informed on a need to know basis of what's going on and where the shipment is going."

"A need to know basis," his voice climbed a little.

"Shooosh," she whispered. "It's a simple yes or no, Captain. Are you in or are you out?"

He look at her, her eyes wiped of any emotion. "When did you cut your hair?"

"I didn't do it," she replied as if the topic was one not going to be discussed.

"Ok, your Worship, I'm in."

-

Two years, since he had last left Hoth. That long since he last saw her. Now he stood at the end of the ramp to the Falcon waiting for his freight.

But all he saw was her, walking towards him with her companion from the bar. A blaster on her right hip, looking confident with every stride. Aware of all the movement around her.

Her eyes never left his, confidence radiating from them. And something reignited in his soul. Two years...

Chewie spoke to him, but it fell on deaf ears. His eyes turned from hers to her companion, realizing now it was a reunion of sorts. Because there standing before him was Luke.

He nodded towards him, but turned his attention back to her.

"So where's the freight?" he asked her.

"We're the freight, Captain," she responded like it was obvious. "We really should get going."

"I didn't agree to take on passengers."

"Promise to be as silent as freight, Solo."

"Knowing you, I doubt that."

Anger rose in her eyes, he could still get to her. And he liked it. He liked how he could start a fire in her eyes with just a few words.

"We don't have time for this," her companion said. "We must go."

She nodded, breaking eye contact with him and striding up the metal ramp to the awaiting ship.

Chewie moaned. It was going to be a long flight.

-

In his dreams he always saw her in dark bar, wearing a crimson dress and dancing with another man. Her hips swaying with the music, but her eyes would always be on his while her body was attached to someone else. She would always smirk at him, but never made her way to him. No, she was always wrapped in someone else's arms and looking straight into his soul.

Now she was here, sitting across from him. No other man besides Luke with her.

He hadn't searched for her after dealing with Jabba. The Hutt had held him in confinement for months, using him as entertainment. Probably hoping he would die, but he didn't. He never understood why he was released. He always thought he would be Jabba's slave or die within his grasp. Maybe rot in his cell.

But a year later, he was released with Chewie into the hot Tatooine sun unable to see because he had been in the dark all those months. He never knew why they had been release and never asked.

-

He stared at her across the table. She was drinking a Corellian ale, her eyes intent on the datapad in her lap, her legs crossed under her. Her short hair falling in her face. She'd occasionally bring the amber bottle to her lips, sip and go back to her reading.

His eyes never left her form. And she never looked at him. Always at the bottle or to the datapad never to him. Then she moved to lounge on the couch, propping herself in the corner and placing her bottle on the floor. Her eyes met his and then back to her datapad.

"Why were ya'll on Tatooine?" he asked.

"Business," Luke answered.

She didn't comment, she kept studying her datapad.

"It's a risky place for rebels," he continued, prodding for more information.

She stretched out like she owned the place, not intruding on the conversation.

"We were safe," Luke said.

"It's covered in Imperials, how did you get in?" he countered, watching her. Her eyes never left her datapad, seemingly indifferent to the conversation.

"The force."

She smiled at that.

"That's not going to get you very far," he countered.

Her eyes glanced at him and then at Luke, rolling them. Was she waiting for the right moment to join in?

"How long have you been on Tatooine?" he asked.

She looked up at him then. "A little over a year," she said before going back to her reading.

"A whole year? What's a girl like you doing on a planet like that?"

She didn't answer.

-

The stars blurred together in the cockpit. She had been on Tatooine for a whole year. And she hadn't seen her. How could he not have seen her?

And her hair. It was gone. But still her eyes held a fire. Maybe she had warmed up a little after he left.

Maybe she had changed a little.

-

It would take them four days to get back to Hoth. Four days with her. He shook his head trying to get her out of it. The images from his dreams. The looks she always gave him there. The way her lips always smiled at him like he was her everything.

He walked back to the galley to find her asleep in the lounge. Her datapad on the holotable.

She looked small curled up there. Smaller than he remembered her.

His hand went out to move hair from her face. It's then he notice the redness on her neck. The raw skin. What had she been doing on Tatooine? And what had she been doing there a year?

-

She was sitting in the copilot's seat staring at the stars. Her arms around her legs.

He opened his mouth but didn't know what to say. It had never been easy for them before he left and it wasn't easy for them now that she was here. She hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch. Just continued reading her datapad.

She had left Chewie and Luke to their game earlier and he had been working on some repairs.

He went and sat in his chair. He watched her close her eyes not looking at him. He watched her draw in a deep breath.

He turned his eyes to the black galaxy flying by them.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

He was surprised by her voice. Soft, but concerning. He looked at her, brown eyes staring at him, watching his every move.

"I'm fine."

She nodded.

"What were you doing on Tatooine?" he asked.

She shook her head, not looking at him.

"Was it confidential too?"

She shook her head.

"Will you answer any of my questions?"

She didn't answer as she pushed herself out of the chair. He grabbed her right arm and in the soft light he saw it on her pale skin before she tugged her arm out his and was through the cockpit doors.

-

She didn't touch dinner. She sat at the table, but said nothing. Chewie pushed a plate in front of her, but she shook her head. Luke had tried to push her to eat, but she left it untouched.

"You should eat something," he said to her.

"You don't need to worry about my well being, Captain," she replied coolly.

"You haven't eaten all day," he countered.

"Once again, you don't need to worry about me."

"Why were you on Tatooine?"

She closed her eyes and exhaled.

"Han..." Luke warned.

"Why were you on Tatooine? What's the big secret that's going on here?"

"Han..." Luke warned, again.

Her eyes opened, narrowing at him. The anger simmered inside her eyes, but she still said nothing. Did she not trust him?

"It was a bold move going back to a heavily tracked Imperial planet," he stated not looking anywhere but at her. "I'm not going to drop the topic until someone gives me some damn answers. Or do you want to talk about your hair? And how Alderaanian women rarely cut their hair?"

"And what about you? You going to share about how after a year of freedom you never went back to the Alliance? We can only talk about me. What about you? Are you willing to discuss those topics, too?" she spat at him, holding his stare.

How did she know? He had wanted nothing more than to go after her the moment he was free. But he was sure she had moved on to someone more on her level.

"Have you been following me?" he responded after a few seconds.

"Again, I have my sources," repeating her words from the bar.

He looked at her scanning her right arm for what he had seen earlier, but it was covered up by a longer shirt now.

"Looking for something?" she asked, bringing his eyes back to her face.

He pushed up his white sleeve from his left arm, exposing the burned "J" on his forearm. Her eyes left his and stared at the brand on his arm. She closed her eyes, pushing up her black sleeve on her right arm before laying it down on the table.

And he saw it again, the same "J" marking her pale skin. His fingers went out to touch it, tracing it ever so lightly. It was newer than his, still red while his had scarred over. His brain neurons started firing, realizing what it meant for her to have similar scar.

He grabbed her wrist then. "What did you do?" he said, carefully and quietly, trying his best to stay calm.

She shook her head and he slammed his fist on the table. "What-did-you-do?" he said, stressing every word.

She looked at him. Her eyes widening. "WHAT DID I DO?" she yelled. "I saved you and Chewie's asses from rotting in a cell for years to come! I saved you from years of torture and abuse!"

"I didn't ask for that," he yelled back.

She stood up, while he still held on to her wrist. "No, you didn't. But I sure as HELL wasn't going to waste my life, knowing somewhere you were possibly dying and needed help. That if it wasn't for me or the Alliance, that maybe you would have paid back Jabba on time with little trouble. That because of the three years you spent with us, Jabba increased the bounty on the both of you. "

She snaked her left hand out of her pocket, brought out a tanned piece of paper and slammed it on the table between them. She ripped her right hand out of his grasp and left the galley.


	2. Chapter 2

He looked at the paper before him, ripped at the corners and tan from the sand. He didn't want to open it. But he did.

Chewie barked at him, suggesting maybe it wasn't a good idea to open it. That she should tell them what had happened, what she had done to get them out of Jabba's clutch. But that seemed unlikely with her current attitude.

He unfolded the piece, laying out there on the table, unsure if he should read it but couldn't look away. Then he folded it up the again, glancing at the words on the paper, but not really taking them in.

Maybe Chewie was right, maybe he should talk to her first.

-

No sun filtered through the metal bars at night. He stared at the metal ceiling, awaiting death. Jabba barely gave them enough water and food to survive. His mouth were permanently parched. His skin tan from being tortured in the sun. He heard soft sounds above him. Then Jabba's laugh. The voice rose and he strained to hear it to make out the sound, the words. However, his body betrayed him and soon fell asleep. But the nightmares he had been having never came. In his sleep, he remembered smelling her floral scent, feeling someone brushing hair off his forehead, feeling safe for the first time in a year...

He woke in his bed. He had always thought of that moment as a silly dream, holding on to what drove him to live through the pain, through the torture.

He exited his cabin, going in search of her. But she most certainly was hiding from him.

She had been the reason why he and Chewie were released that day. She had been in the cell with him that night or at least he was realizing that was a possibility. But what had happened to her?

He had been too tired then to believe it was real. At the time, it couldn't be real because he thought she was off saving the world. Not off saving him.

-

He found her in the cargo hold, looking at her locker that still held all her possessions. He had never cleaned it out. Never wanted to. He wanted to be reminded that at some point he had her in his life.

"Sweetheart," he whispered as he cautiously stepped towards her, not wanting her to run again.

She didn't turn around, her fingers lying on the shirt he had given her to sleep in the first night she was on the ship.

Soon he was standing next to her, trying to peer into her eyes. Trying to search for the answers he most desperately wanted from. Trying not to bundle her up in his arms and hug her and kiss her because she was in front of him.

She no longer smelled of rare flowers, but of the Tatooine sun. And the skin on her neck was slowly healing but still raw and it made his blood boil. His hand went to hold her elbow, trying to get her to look at him. Trying to urge her to see that he was there.

And the moment she did, his heart broke into a million pieces. Silent tears streamed down her face. Her eyes pleading with him. And his body did the one thing his head didn't want to him to do. He gathered her up in his arms, trying to stop her pain.

Her hand grasped his shirt, as his stroked her back.

"Leia," he whispered.

Her head pulled back, her eyes staring straight into him like she did in his dreams. Except she wasn't in someone else's arms, she was in his. Her hands were on him, not wrapped around a faceless man in his dream.

His hand went to her waist, another on her back, trying to keep her close to him. Trying not to let her go. And when he moved his hand, she hissed. What had she done?

"What did Jabba do to you?" he whispered softly.

Her eyes left his, staring down at the metal floor. "Leia," he pushed.

Once again, that got her attention. And he realized he hadn't ever said her name before.

"Oh, sweetheart."

And then her lips were on his. Soft at first. Then pleading. He met each kiss with the same passion, pushing his body into hers, trapping her against the lockers.

One of her hands was entangled in his hair and the other at his hip, pressing her body into his.

And suddenly his mind caught up with his body. He couldn't do this without answers. He couldn't ignore her sacrifice and sweep it under the rug. No matter how good her body felt against his. He needed answers.

He broke the kiss and placed his forehead to hers. His hand wrapping around the one that had landed was on his hip, bringing it to his lips and kissing it.

"Leia," he said softly, his voice urging her to talk to him.

Her eyes fluttered open full of trepidation. "What happened?"

She shook her head as he held on to her. "Please," he pleaded.

"You didn't..." she started, her voice laced with hurt. "I thought you were..."

She began and stopped, trying to find the words. Her eyes no longer looking at his, as her mind tried to find the right phrase. Then the unexpected happened. Her posture changed, she straightened. Her hands stopped trembling and dropped from his. The wall that seemed to be crumbling before him, was being replaced brick by brick.

"I did what you would have done, if it had been me," she replied, untangling herself from him and leaving him staring at her as she walked away once again.

-

The dim lights of the cabin flickered as he entered. He was emotionally worn out. Not knowing why she had gone after him. Only that she was right, if the roles had been reversed, he would have done the same thing.

He pulled out the piece of paper she had given him and laid it on the bed. The closest thing he had to answers were written on that piece of paper.

His callous fingers unfolded the pieces, handling it with care and fear. He was scared of what all she had done to win his freedom and Chewie's. Had Jabba made her a slave? Had he tortured her like he had to him? Did that worm touch her?

He looked down at the cursive words below:

"I, Leia Organa, agree to pay off a 100,000 credit debt to Jabba the Hutt and serve one year in his care for the release of Han Solo and Chewbacca. They will be released immediately and given back their ship."

He stared at the words below him. 100,000 credits... One year... What had she done?

-

Two days had gone by and the silence hung in the air. He watched her always. Her brown eyes never meeting his.

He looked to Luke who sat and shrugged. His friend had not expanded on his and her plans. Or on why he had accompanied her to Tatooine.

As he watched her move about the Falcon like a ghost, he wanted to yell at her, he wanted to hold her and he wanted to protect.

But most of all he wanted to kill Jabba.

"She's ok," Luke said, breaking his trance.

"She's not," he replied.

"Maybe not fully. But she's better now than she was after you left," he stated.

"I left to protect her."

"I know that. She knows that. But she doesn't need protecting, Han. She...," Luke paused and he saw the fight going on in his friend's head over the truth. "She crumbled after you left. She was a mess. She was a liability on missions. She got herself caught by bounty hunters. It was if..."

Luke shook his head. "Look something snapped in her after you were gone for six months. Maybe she realized you weren't coming back or maybe that you had gotten in over ya'lls head. But she started trying to get information on you and Chewie, which didn't make the High Command happy, and the next thing she was getting credits from Ord Mantell. I couldn't stop her if I tried. High Command couldn't stop her. She was coming after you, Han, I could either go for it or I couldn't. There was no in between. And I went with her because I didn't want her to get hurt and so that we could get ya'll out. The last thing I ever wanted was her slaving for Jabba, but that's what they agreed to that day. She wanted so badly to save you that she... Look, the moment I knew a year was up, I was in there dragging her out of there."

Han watched the man before him, no longer the boy he had met on the Tatooine all those years ago. His blue eyes masking the pain of letting her go off with Jabba.

"But I know you need to hear that from her. And she'll tell her in time. She's still healing from wounds Jabba gave her. Maybe after that she'll be able to tell you, why and how. I don't have all the answers. I can only give you a glimpse of what happened."

Luke stood before his friend, squeezing his shoulder before walking away.

-

Those moments when the torture was too much, he'd think of her. The way a simple retort would roll of her tongue like a lashing, but never meaning to do too much harm. How her smile could make his heart swell in his chest. How her eyes had looked when he dared her to kiss him in the corridor. How her arms had felt wrapped around him after blowing up the Death Star. Those moments kept him from screaming. From dying on the table.

He knew he needed to go back to her after being released by Jabba the Hutt. To maybe see her smile again. Even if it was with someone else. But he didn't. He couldn't bring himself to do it. But now, knowing that she had come after him, maybe he should have.


	3. Chapter 3

He couldn't sleep. His mind flashed to the worst possible scenario – Jabba with his slimy arms around her.

He threw his sheets off of him and exited his cabin. The corridor was silent. All he could hear was the hum of the Falcon moving through space.

He walked silently towards the cockpit. He wanted to watch the stars fly by, feel the silence of space that had comforted him before her. That had always saved him from himself.

The cockpit door hissed open. And he saw her there again, asleep. Her hand cradling her head, as her chest inhaled and exhaled. She looked so peaceful.

He scanned her pale skin for anymore scars, but was met with only the "J." He moved to sit in his chair, staring at the million blinking stars flying by them.

Maybe she was ok, but he didn't quite believe it.

He felt a soft finger, trace his jawline. His eyes fluttered open and he saw her in front of him. Her eyes staring into his. Her hand went to cup his face.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, peering into his eyes. "You just want to know the truth and I shouldn't be pushing you away. It's just..."

His hand went to touch hers, silently urging her to continue.

"Luke told me...," she bit her lip. Her eyes clouding over, fighting with herself. "I guess when you left, I expected you back. Some false hope that you'd come back. When you didn't … I got worried. I searched records. I looked at bounties. I looked at death certificates. Not a trace of you and Chewie."

Her voice cracked with the last sentence, and he brought her to him, wrapping his arms around her. Her light breath on his neck, enticing him.

"I traveled to Ord Mantell for High Command and came across some bounty hunters. I inquired about you. One named Boba Fett said that Jabba had been torturing and you got what you deserved. Well, that didn't really sit too well with me. And me and Fett had some words, then he realized, I had a bounty on my head, too. We fought and he almost got me off the planet if it wasn't for Luke."

He looked at her, as she hid in his chest. Her words sinking into his skin. She had just as high of a price on her head as he did. And while Jabba wasn't the nicest Hutt, he probably paled in comparison to what the Empire would do to her.

_She hung down in the pit of the Falcon, helping Chewie. _

"_No, Chewie, I don't think that goes there," she said to him. "Well, don't yell at me for helping. For Sith's sake!"_

_Her shirt had moved up her back and he saw the needle marks. The fading purple and yellow bruise on her hip. _

"_Chewie!" she yelled. "There is no reason to hit it!" _

_She turned then to pick up a tool and realized he was staring at her. She smiled before grabbing the hydrospanner and turning back to the wookie below her. _

His hand went to her hair, stroking the brown tresses.

She sighed into his chest. "But after the encounter with the bounty hunters, I couldn't just let you die in a cell. Knowing you were still alive. After six months, I had my answer. You and Chewie were alive. Maybe not well, but you were alive."

Her head turned up to him, he looked into her eyes. The veil that had been there seemed gone. "I just couldn't stay behind. So I quit the Alliance and came after you," she said so quickly that his brain was stuck trying to keep up.

"You did what?" he said a little too harshly.

Her eyes held his. "I quit the Alliance to come after you."

That got his attention. The Alliance had been her life. And she gave it up to come after him. He held her tight.

She was right. In her position, he would have done the same thing.


	4. Chapter 4

Minutes had gone by after her newest revelation. Silence had spread through the room, though she was still wrapped in his arms. He wanted know why she quit. Luke had mentioned something about High Command, but he was quickly learning that the less he pushed the more she opened up.

His fingers went through the brown hair sun kissed by the Tatooine suns as his mind continued taking in her words.

He sat in the chair, holding her close. She had fallen asleep with her head on his chest. She looked peaceful and childlike there in his arms. His fingers still tangled in her hair.

He knew the silence, the peacefulness would end and one of them would snap. But for now, he was happy to hold her, to let her lean on him.

The questions still burned in his mind. It's why he hadn't fallen asleep like she did. His mind was buzzing a mile a minute.

Going back to the Alliance now was going to be a big step, especially since she left and possibly disobeyed the High Council.

And then there was still her hair. Still long, but not as long as it had been. What had Jabba done to her? Or what had she done to receive such a punishment.

He heard a soft intake of breath, coming from the sleeping figure and look to see her grabbing his shirt.

"Leia," he whispered.

She stirred, but still held tight on his shirt.

"Leia," he whispered again.

Brown eyes fluttered open to meet his, looking scared before clearing.

"I'm alright," she responded before he could ask a question, loosening her grip on his shirt.

She pushed off his lap and stood up.

"I didn't ask," he responded.

"I know."

"Leia..."

"I'm fine, Captain."

"So we're back to this?" he asked with frustration in his voice, looking at the wall that had formed in her gaze.

Her eyes melted some and she kissed his cheek before walking out of the cockpit.

_It was in a pub the first time he asked her. They were running for their lives. The imperials had found them and they were hiding out. _

_"You know if we survive this," he told her as he sipped his beer, his arm around her shoulders. "I may marry you." _

_"Is that what you call a proposal, Captain?" she asked. _

_"Just a statement of fact," he replied. _

_Her brown eyes looked at his. "You've lost too much blood to be serious."_

His fingers played with the silver ring in his hand. In that moment, he had been serious. She had stopped the bleeding after he had been shot, helped them find a place to hide, and eventually got them off the planet.

She had saved his life. And that made them even then. There had been no reason for her to come after him after he left to visit Jabba. No reason for her to give up her life, quit the Alliance, and spend money on him.

Why hadn't she then? Why didn't she just move on?

His cabin door whooshed open and her small silhouette was in the doorway.

"Oh, sorry," she muttered.

"Did you need something?" he asked.

"I just was hoping to use the fresher," she replied.

"You know where it is."

She cocked her head and eyed him. Her brown eyes racking his form, searching for something. She shrugged soon after and walked past him to the fresher.

He stood in his cabin as she used the fresher. Staring at the door. Wondering what scars she had underneath the clothes.

He remembered holding her and her intake of breath when he touched her back. He wondered what was there. Was it serious.

And all too soon he heard the refresher door slide open. And saw her short frame in the doorway, seeing her jump when she saw him still there.

"Can I get some privacy, Captain?" she asked curtly, stepping into the room with her hair still wet from the shower and a towel wrapped around her small body.

His eyes ran up and down her form, finding nothing on her legs to cause concern. It was the thin scar on her collarbone that peaked his interest. His feet taking the two strides over to her. His one hand, tracing the mark on her tan skin.

"Captain?" she whispered.

He said nothing, as he walked around her to take in her back. He saw it then, the big bruise marring her shoulder. It was a light purpleish-yellow, healing but still there, and larger than the towel would allow him to see.

"Han?" she whispered loudly as her head turned over her shoulder.

His hazel eyes moved to hers. And he was sure she could feel the rage bubbling in him.

"It's healing."

"He hurt you!" he exclaimed.

"I was his slave for a year!" she responded. "It was MY choice! Not yours! Not Luke's! Not Chewie's!"

"You never had to do it!"

"You are just going to have to deal with the fact that I saved your ass! That you couldn't be the hero! That you didn't know what I did!"

He watched her turn and face him. Her chest rising and falling with every word and exclamation. Her brown eyes holding that fire that she saved just for their fights.

"I don't know how to stress that I don't regret what I did. It got you and Chewie to safety. And yes, it was the longest year of my life. And yes, I got bruises and some scars, but those will fade. I'm not broken, Han. I'm very much alive."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because..." she started. "You saved me. By accident sure. But you did. I couldn't live knowing that the bounty on your head was so high because of the Alliance. That we owed you enough to get you out. And sure maybe the High Council doesn't see it that way, but I do."

"You did it because you owed me some debt?" his eyes searching hers as he asked.

"I did it because... Because you don't leave someone behind. Especially someone you love."

He felt her hand squeeze his, then cup his face before her lips met his. It was soft and tender.

"The only thing I wish is that I could have been there sooner," she whispered before walking out of the room.


	5. Chapter 5

He stood staring at the door. The words echoing in his head. 'Someone you love.' His heart pounding in his chest.

She loved him. And he hadn't gone after her. Hadn't even tried. He had thought she would have moved on. But she had slayed the dragon for him. She was the hero not him.

Then again that was seven years ago. A day before she'd walk back to the Alliance. Two years until the fight would be over and she'd say it again. Three before he'd propose again. And four long years of in between meetings.

And now he was about to see her again. Not just on holovideos, but face to face. And he was scared.

Fin


End file.
